the naked me

There were a series of events that happened to me. No, I didn’t get naked. So, I’ll tell you what happened first, and then explain.

Some years ago, I went kind of obsessed with losing weight. At the time, according to my BMI (body mass index), a “Do-It-Yourself Body-fat Percentage Test” I found online, my family (siblings especially), and the portrait media painted of the “ideal size” woman – I was fat. I told my best friend at the time (who was around the same size as me now that I look back at the photos) about my plumpness, but she told me I wasn’t.

About a year or so ago, I started doing some weight-watching again – but not for the same reasons; I wanted to be healthy. But when I mentioned to a few of my friends about my lifestyle changes, they said, “Julie, you’re not fat. You look fine – quit worrying so much.”

During the past summer, after a nice game of softball, the Lions and another team (I don’t remember exactly which one) did a devotional together. Our task was to go into groups of 4 or 5 and tell each other one bad thing, one good thing and one thing we would like to change about ourselves. I remember thinking really hard about the stuff I wanted to change, like my ears, my flexibility (or lack thereof) or improve some softball skill... but when it came time to share, a thought hit me and I said, “I wish I didn’t have any secrets.”

A month or so ago, in the Scarborough Grace Hospital where I volunteer, a middle-aged man kept watching me while I walked around and did my duties. He was waiting for the doctor to see him, so I assumed he had nothing better to occupy himself with. But after a good hour of observing, he finally came up, stared me straight in the eyes and said, “I just wanted to let you know that you’re beautiful.”

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Okay, I just want to make it clear that I’m not looking for any comments about my appearance. Like I’ve said blogs past, I can’t take criticism (negative or positive). So, please don’t say anything about that for my sake.

Now then, to tie everything up... after each of those scenarios, I found myself saying in my mind,
“That’s because you’ve never seen me naked.”
I still say that, actually. Sometimes even aloud when people I’m comfortable with make a comment about my looks. You don’t know what I hide... all the little deformities I may have. Apart of this blog entry, I was going to list out all my “not normal” physical characteristics of myself, but I was advised not to... because I wouldn’t know what that would accomplish. In fact, I don’t know what my main point is.

My thoughts are jumbled, but what I think I’m trying to say is... I may not look like the girl you may think I look like. Hum... sounds odd... how about this: we girls (although I can really only speak for myself now) hide a lot of ourselves to have ourselves believe we look better than we think we look when we’re absolutely naked. Huh... Okay, 3’s the charm, I’m going to try to make sense of my thoughts one more time: when it comes to appearance, there are many things you may not be able to see because we/I have mastered the art of disguising our/my “ugliness” that only we/I know exist. I know I’m probably scaring you with what “things” I may be hiding, but comparing myself to other naked women I’ve seen, I’m not a monster. But that doesn’t matter, the bottom line is... we’re all ugly. *ha ha* (kidding) I don’t know... dang, I shouldn’t have blogged. Do I make sense? Probably not. But I think I make sense, so I’ll just leave it at that.

End communication.